Visiting Ours
by Heroes of Amestris
Summary: Ginoza and Tsunemori go to visit Masaoka and Aoi Tsunemori, who are buried in the same cemetery. Tsunemori's usual strength cracks, Ginoza steps in to comfort her. Post season-2. One-shot. Ginaka.


As Tsunemori punched our location into the car's automated system, Ginoza watched her quietly. They had been working together long enough for him to notice when he fingers dragged a little, when her brow wrinkled just a little too tightly, when the corners of that bright smile drooped down. Her grip on the steering wheel was a little tighter than usual, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Tsunemori, we don't need to go today -"

"Don't be silly, Ginoza-san." She looked at him, smile drooping, but softening as she realized how she must look. "You know I want to go as much as you do. It's just..."

"Hard," he finished for her. She nodded quietly. Tears tiny as twinkling stars dotted the corners of her eyes for a fraction of a second, but she blinked them away as quickly as they appeared.

"Can we stop at the flower shop? I'm sure obaa-chan and Masaoka-san would love to have some flowers. It's been a while since we left some for them."

Ginoza smiled at her uncanny thoughtfulness. "Yes, I know they would both love that."

Tsunemori redirected the car, and soon they pulled up in front of a flower shop. It was only a few blocks from the cemetery, and the woman behind the counter recognized both of them immediately. She was a kind woman, with a soft smile. Her duty was to help the grieving pay respects as best they could. Her demeanor reminded Ginoza of the inspector.

"Tsunemori-san, Ginoza-san, it's nice to see you two. Visiting grandma and dad again today?"

Tsunemori nodded, genuine joy outlining her features. It didn't seem to matter that they were going to a place she would feel pain, she still had plenty of space in her heart to appreciate the flower lady. Ginoza couldn't help but marvel at his superior's composure and depth. This was nothing new, of course. She had been like this from the beginning, but it was only in the last few months... after all that had happened, that he really stopped to appreciate it.

"Ginoza-san, are you listening to me?" Tsunemori's voice broke through his inner monologue.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, pulling himself out of his revelry. He shook his head and smiled sheepishly at her. "Got lost in my thoughts."

"It's okay. I was just wondering," she held a bouquet of dark purple orchids out to him. "Does Masaoka-san like the color purple?"

They always spoke of their deceased in the present tense. They had been doing so ever since the started coming to the cemetery to visit Masaoka, even before Aoi had passed away. Maybe it was respect for the dead, maybe it was a coping mechanism. Either way, it was a small gesture that seemed to comfort both the inspector and her enforcer.

"Yes, I'm sure he would love those. He was never that picky about colors, but he is a sentimental man. He will appreciate the thought."

"Excellent." She had picked a white rose and baby's breath arrangement for her grandmother. "These ones are oba-chan's favorite." She returned to the front counter. "We will take both of them."

"Beautiful choices, as always," the shop owner complimented. "Your loved ones have some dedicated people left to care for them. Now take care, and I look forward to seeing you two again."

Ginoza took both bouquets in his arms as they climbed back into the car. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tsunemori take a deep breath, steeling herself against the emotions that were soon to wash over her.

He could hardly blame her. The Kamui case had left everyone shaken. From the look of things, she shouldered the burden of the truth more than anyone. Chief Kasei was mysterious as always, and both inspector Tsunemori and Shimotsuki were tight-lipped about the disappearance of Kamui Kirito. The case was officially closed, but there were far more questions than answers.

On top of the massive amount of reports it must have taken to wrap up a seemingly open case, Tsunemori had her own feelings of grief, which she surely pent up inside her. Shion had shown Ginoza the file - Aoi Tsunemori had been brutally beaten to death, and somehow the report made it clear that Tougane Sakuya was to blame. Even so, he could see that Tsunemori held herself responsible.

Nevertheless, she had carried on, and continued to be a more effective unit chief than he ever could have dreamt of being. Indeed, he would put his life in her hands even at her weakest moment. He only wished he knew more how to reach out and support her, to show her he cared, that he would never leave her side...

Just as he caught himself in those dangerous thoughts, he sound of Tsunemori's door closing broke through. "Gino, you are too far inside your head today," she giggled as she pulled his door open for him. She had a warm smile and a hurt spirit, but she would never be broken. Nothing in the world could break his inspector, he was sure of it.

Whenever they reached the cemetery, they dropped honorifics and opted for less formal names. They said it was to make it feel more like a home visit. Tsunemori had adopted Kougami's nickname for Ginoza, Gino, and he simply called her by her given name, Akane.

He handed her grandmother's flowers to her as he got out of the car. "Sorry again, I'm a little distracted I guess. For one thing, I'm trying to think of what I want to tell Dad today."

She nodded in understanding. They always walked to Masaoka's grave first. It gave Tsunemori time to prepare for seeing her grandmother's grave. It was never easy for her, but then, Ginoza thought to himself, was visiting his father ever easy?

They stopped in front of the headstone, and Ginoza dropped to his knees, placing the flowers carefully in front of his father's name.

"Hi, Dad. It's me again," he started. "Akane and I came to see you. Things have been rough around the office lately. Lots of paperwork, but being an enforcer gets the Chief off my back," he smiled. "Did you enjoy that after you got demoted?"

He always asked the grave questions. But the words he usually spoke to his father weren't coming as they normally did. Akane stood a few feet back, and sometimes would pace up and down the rows, hoping to give Gino a little bit of privacy. But Gino felt her walk away, and something tugged at him as she did. He turned around.

"Akane?"

She looked at him from down the row. "Yes, what is it?" Soft eyes, soft heart, and, Ginoza was sure, soft hands, all to comfort him here, in the hardest place to be.

"I think Dad would like it if you talked to him, too."

Tsunemori gave him a surprised look, but she walked back towards her enforcer, and knelt down next to him. "Okay then. Promise to say hi to obaa-chan then?"

Trying not to get lost in the honesty of her beautiful eyes, he said, "Of course."

She turned to the headstone. "Masaoka-san, I bought purple flowers for you today," she always spoke so easily, Ginoza thought. The words flowed out from her, natural as rolling waves.

"I have been missing my obaa-chan a lot, Masaoka-san, so I like to come here with Gino before I go see her. You give me strength, and so does Gino right here next to me."

Ginoza's heart swelled ever so slightly. Even in the midst of all the feelings of loss and despair, as they sat here together, Akane made him feel worthwhile, meaningful, _needed_.

"Gino is ever the worrier, Masaoka-san, that hasn't changed. But, you know, he worries more happily now, if that makes sense." She lifted her eyes up to meet Ginoza's for a moment, then brought them back to the headstone. "Maybe you don't feel like you raised him, but I think you did, and I am so happy to have him on my team. Thank you, Masaoka-san, for giving me strength to see obaa-chan, and for Gino to look after me. He always tells me I'm too reckless," she smiled. "Doesn't that sound like him?"

After gracing Gino with yet another comforting look, she stood up and straightened her jacket. "Are you ready, Gino?"

He brushed his pants off and replied, "Yes. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I told Masaoka-san, you are still ever the worrier, Gino. I'll be all right."

The tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes again. With a sniffle, she said, "Let's go, it's this way," as though he wouldn't know where it was, after months of visiting.

Aoi's grave was simple, with her name and dates etched onto it. Tsunemori knelt down to put the flowers down, and the tears started to fall. Ginoza watched her struggle to keep it inside, but in barely a whisper, he said, "It's okay, Akane. No one else is here. Just obaa-chan and us."

"Obaa-chan... obaa-chan," the words eked out of her throat, desperate to escape, as she was desperate to hold them in.

It had been like this for a few months. Sometimes, the inspector would stand and look at the grave quietly, for an hour, without moving or crying. Other times it was more like this. Each time Ginoza stood back, determined not to leave her, unsure what else he could do.

"I'm so sorry, obaa-chan, I'm so sorry." She put her head in her hands and shook quietly. Ginoza felt helpless, afraid to comfort her, afraid to leave her be.

"Gino..." her shaking voice broke through his thoughts.

"I'm right here."

She placed a hand on the ground on her left side, indicating for him to kneel next to her, not looking up at him. "Can you... can you talk to obaa-chan for me?"

Before he even realized what he was doing, he found himself grasping her hand tightly in his own, and felt words spilling out of his mouth.

"Aoi-san, you have a wonderful granddaughter. She makes you proud every day." Akane's hand tightened around Ginoza's, begging him to not let go. It was his normal hand, the one that could feel warmth and give warmth. She begged him silently to continue saying all the things she couldn't.

"She's very sad about what happened. I know she's told you before. I'm sure that you know - like I do - that she shouldn't blame herself. I understand, though, Aoi-san. Akane told you about my father, how he rests here with you."

He took a deep breath. He doesn't talk about his father often. It is never easy.

"I know what it is like to blame yourself for what happens to others. Your granddaughter has saved many people, but no one can save everyone. You want her to know that she needs to keep doing what she does, but I bet you want her to know that she doesn't have to be strong all the time. Isn't that right, Aoi-san?"

He felt silence settle over them like a blanket. The inspector's tears were still falling, but more slowly. Their hands were still joined. Ginoza wondered if he should pull away. This was dangerous territory, after all.

Just as the enforcer was about to withdraw his hand, she released her grasp on his hand and pulled herself into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the gesture, and held her small frame against his as she wept. The last time her had held her like this had been outside the giant, burning mansion, when Aoi's ear was delivered to her in a jewelry box.

It is always pain that brings people closest to each other, he thought.

As her shaking subsided, she slowly lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were full of pain, an honest and raw kind of pain, one that only exists in someone as sincere and kind as Tsunemori Akane.

"I'm so sorry, Gino, I -"

"Shhh, it's all right." He reached his regular hand up and brushed some of the remaining tears from her eyes. "I'm sure obaa-chan knows how you feel. Can you stand?"

Tsunemori nodded. She shook her head, as if to dismiss the last of the tears.

Ginoza stood up first, and held both hands out to lift her up.

"Are you ready to go, Ginoza-san?" She returned to the honorifics, perhaps embarrassed by the intimacy they had just shared, perhaps preparing to return to the normalcy of life outside of grief. Despite the title, though, she took his hand again, assuring him that she needed him. That was more than he could have asked for.

"When you are, inspector."


End file.
